Nudge of the Mouse
by Gaslight
Summary: Oneshot. Toby ponders how he can approach Pam again. Takes place same day as The Convention. Toby&Pam.


**TITLE: **Nudge of the Mouse

**PAIRING:** Toby/Pam

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own the characters. Not making any money from this.

**SUMMARY:** Toby ponders how he can approach Pam again.

**NOTE: **My first _Office _fic. Please review and let me know how I can improve because I'd love to write more about my favorite character. Much appreciated!

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_The novelty alarm clock, consisting of a weighted base, face, and a spring to connect the two, sounded like the buzz of a wounded mosquito, so cheap where its parts. A girl held it out to him and laughed, waggling the head from side to side until it resembled a spastic metronome. "This is from me, Daddy!" she giggled. "Take it to work!"_

Toby's head jerked and he looked around sleepily disoriented, his surroundings oddly dim. It didn't take him long to realize where he was and he sighed. Whoever had been the last to leave had turned the lights off. Only the emergency lights remained. If he ever slept a whole night at Dunder-Mifflin, that would be the day suicide sorely beckoned._ Jesus._

He grabbed at the clock, its alarm barely audible despite the office being dead quiet. 9:15 P.M. It had been buzzing ineffectually for over an hour. He hadn't wanted to still be here this late. _God, no..._

With a flick of a mangled fingernail, he slid the switch on the back to "OFF" and returned it to its position beside his computer monitor. The logical side of him -- the HR side -- recognized the thing was a piece of cheap Chinese crap. Or the parts had been made in the USA, shipped to China to be assembled, and then returned to the US. Who knew how things worked nowadays? Pretty receptionists went out on dates. So did HR reps. But just not together, apparently.

He looked at the screen. It was black, sent into timed sleep some time ago. He glanced at the clock again, its face the standard yellow smiley face in the center with smaller ones at 12, 3, 6 and 9. How insanely cheerful. It hurt him to think Sasha had bought it for him because he had appeared just as insanely sad.

He stood up and stuffed the project – the reason he had stayed late -- into a drawer. He would come back to it in the morning, first thing at 9. He saved his work and exited the applications, one by one. He paused at the browser window. A website for a local inn that served a delicious steak dinner. He had kept it up, planning to call and make reservations as soon as he asked Pam out -- providing she said yes, of course. Although there was no crime in eating there alone...again.

With a shake of his head in disgusted self-reproach, he exited the browser and shut down the computer down with angry clicks. He grabbed his coat and briefcase and made for the front of the office. His eyes had adjusted and now it seemed as bright as day.

As he passed Ryan's new desk, he couldn't help but notice the crisp tidiness. Jim's new desk in Stamford had no doubt quickly lost that look and was now sporting the Halpert trademark of orderly casual. There was little doubt in Toby's mind that Ryan's desk would quickly reflect the stress of being in such unenviable proximity to Michael. That would mean no work for him, however. Ryan wasn't a complainer.

He was about to walk past reception and out the door when he stopped and looked at Pam's desk. Maybe there was something there he could use to approach her again. Photos of a dog or relatives or...anything. He could spend the rest of the night coming up with something to say, something no phone call could cause him panic and doubt.

He rounded the desk and scanned the curved confines. Thumbtacks, Post-Its, phone log, the cursed VoIP phones that had as many problems as perks... Three times now, his ex-wife's voice mails hadn't shown up in the inbox for 2 days, causing no end of rage on her part and equal confusion on his. A photo of Pam and a woman who appeared to be her mother caught his eye. He could see the resemblance. But there was nothing conversational in it. He couldn't comment on her mother -- Pam would think he wanted to date _her_.

He leaned forward, certain he must have missed something. Pam didn't seem like the type to live in Spartan formality at work. Personal effects were everywhere. Even Stanley had some.

As he leaned over her desk, his coat caught her mouse and the black computer screen sprang to life. Like his, it had a timed shutoff. It opened to a blank Word document. He hesitated, wondering if he could close it and shut it down. Energy consumption was an issue, downsizing or not. The company had sent out several emails throughout the summer during the heat wave with suggestions and techniques on how to lessen demand on the grid. Michael had relished his role as environmental warrior for one full day before getting cranky at the various inconveniences.

He would turn it off, but he wouldn't tell her. Some people he preferred not think of him as a spoilsport and nagging nanny.

When Word closed, Toby realized why the computer had been left on in the first place.

_Click to Continue Play_

An internet arcade game. And at 300,000 points. Toby smiled and a small laugh escaped him. Pam was quite the expert at Bejeweled, and dedicated enough so that the lack of Save Game options was no reason to deliberately lose when quitting time came around just so she could turn off her computer.

He felt a twinge of indecision, but it passed quickly. He made a note of the URL. When he got home, he would play a few rounds himself. Games always made the time pass quickly and the fun part couldn't be underestimated either. Except for Barbie's Horse Adventures. And Elmo's Letter Adventure. Some parents would play anything with their kids. Sasha's Hello Kitty games were vastly more fun, but of course Elmo was her favorite.

After opening Word again and putting everything where it had been, he pulled on his coat. When he reached into his pocket for his keys, he remembered he'd stashed an apple in there, grabbing it from the paper orchard bag on the porch on his way to the car that morning. He realized he hadn't eaten dinner and thought of steak.

He took the apple out and was about to bite into it when he stopped, made sure there were no bruises, and buffed it on his coat sleeve. He set it next to her keyboard and then took one of the Post-Its and a pen. He scribbed a quick note, set the apple on it, and picked up his briefcase. With a nervous smile, he left.

_Pam--_

_Fuel for your next 300,000 points._

_Toby_

_**END**_


End file.
